The streets are thick with sympathetic prostitutes and cruddy with the smell of urine. No, it's not the Tenderloin but a darkly textured evocation, by the Hughes twins, of Victorian London. They can make you see a smell.

"From Hell" -- Jack the Ripper's return address -- offers audiences a walk on the wild side without leaving the comfort and safety of stadium seating. This is Whitechapel lowlife seen from the top layer of society -- which, of course, is what makes it lowlife and attractive. Lowlifes don't see it that way.

"From Hell" stars Johnny Depp, accompanied, as always, by ambiguity. Prince of decadence Depp, playing a London police inspector, is first seen through an opium haze brought on by a toke from a pipe and given a buzz by a dash of laudanum in absinthe.

Telling, graphic detail and complex characterizations are just two of the layers Albert and Allen Hughes ("Menace II Society") bring to the horror- mystery, a genre not associated with them. It will be now. It is a knuckle- gnaw. It restores chill to an earlier meaning.

"From Hell" is a retelling, based on the Allan Moore graphic novel, of the gruesome serial killings of prostitutes that preoccupied London tabloids in 1888. The scope of this version, presenting as fiction what has been offered previously as theory, stretches all the way to Buckingham Palace and an exclusive secret society.

Many characters in this story, including Jack the Ripper, lead double lives,

and that extends to Inspector Frank Abberline (Depp), whose reputation for brilliant deductions is based, some believe, on opium-induced visions.

The methodical dissection of the victims leads Abberline to consult Sir William Gull (Ian Holm) on medical matters. Heather Graham, with her wide-set eyes and flaming hair, is one of the "unfortunate women" who cross Abberline's path. London actress Katrin Cartlidge ("Breaking the Waves") plays the prostitute Annie, and Robbie Coltrane is a cynical police sergeant.

When Sir William notices Abberline's knowledge of laudanum, he observes that not many would recognize it except "doctors and addicts." This medical expert sees into himself, too, when he refers to "the surgeon's disability: want of feeling."

Abberline's problem is the exact opposite, although he has a dark streak. If Depp's accent is Cockney, it is a low-key Cockney. Sensitive, too. Audience members who share that characteristic may find the discomfort level in "From Hell" too much to sit through.

There are naked bodies stretched out dead and alive. Barbarism extends to the medical theater, where new and admired medical treatments include a skull- puncturing technique. "From Hell" has a fascination with the shiny steel of medical instruments not seen in a film since David Cronenberg's "Dead Ringers. " Also under scientific observation is the grotesque "elephant man" John Merrick, contrasted in a single shot with the dark physicality of Depp.

As presented here, there is the upper-class notion that all England's troubles come from abroad. Grape-eating snobs are suspicious of "socialists, Jews and foreigners" and have no inhibitions about saying so. Significant lore makes an impact. We learn that coins are used to cover the eyes of the dead "to pay the ferryman" across the Styx.

Abberline, who thinks the killings are ritual murders, is so well known for both opiates and uncanny CSI that there is a damaging rumor that "he dreams the answers." The inspector is in good company. Sherlock Holmes, after all, was addicted to cocaine ("The Seven Per Cent Solution").

When Abberline gets too hot on the trail, he is assaulted by well-connected agents and told to find a scapegoat -- ordered, really. He is suspended and "all his privileges" are canceled.